After a few roller coasters, I took the Hogwarts Express from Hogsmeade over to Diagon Alley for lunch. Shortly following was a delicious steak pie and too much butterbeer! For those cream soda lovers out there- butterbeer is heaven.

Pro-tip: If you know you are going to spend a certain amount of money in the park, you can go to the Gringott’s Money Exchange for real Gringott’s bank notes (or a money voucher you can use anytime in the park). If you use the note for less than it’s value, you get muggle change. But you have to watch out for this guy:

Isn’t it funny the things that we become attached to? When I look through my room, I have so many things: books, hats, clothes—the list goes on and on. And yet, when you ask me to point out the things that I would take with me if I had to leave it all behind, it’s the funny, nearly valueless things that mean so much to me. Now I’m not saying I would leave me rings and jewelry PUH-lease. It’s just some of my favorite things are quite unexpected. Take for instance this picture:

I randomally picked it up one day in a cute shop in Oxford called Arcadia (really a haven for vintage papers of all kinds). I think I probably got it because it was the only old magazine reproduction that was under 10 pounds, and yet, it has brought me so many smiles. One of my friends even referred to it as the “naked girl” picture. But that little French adventurer is more than a sometimes naked girl to me. She’s sort of my spirit animal. Well, the other day I looked at it and found myself caught looking at the white outfit. I couldn’t think if I had any hat that would be anything like hers and more or less gave the idea up. Literally, less than 5 days later, I was browsing an antique warehouse and came upon the on I’m wearing in pictures for 5 dollars. It was fate! I hope you like my interpretation.

Hopelessly delayed, I bring you this month’s Eccentric Glamour link-up. In the back of my closet I found this cashmere light pink V-neck, and really went beserk pairing it up. In St. Augustine, there is a carousel at the intersection before you turn towards old town or take the bridge to Villano Beach. The carousel runs almost all day every day and is only a dollar per ride. I think it’s kind of a fixture of the city, and was happy I could pay homage to it with this rather carnival-esque outfit.

Isn’t it funny how some of the most accidental discoveries can end up being your favorite things? That’s the way I feel about this cape, and this lovely old town. As for the forner, my friend Elizabeth and I both enjoy a thrift store joke about as much as a thrift store gem. This being the case, she texted me a picture of the “ridiculous cape” she saw while out one day. My only response besides replacing my gaping jaw, was “It’s perfect.” And the economical birthday present was “in the bag.” Subsequently, this (maybe Aztec-inspired) article has become one of my favorite accessories. Paired with what I would consider, “conquistador” boots, I was ready to traipse through (and match the peacocks in) America’s first Spanish colony, St. Augustine.

I really love this city. It’s definitely had its ups and downs (something I will discuss more tomorrow), but it has retained a local flair and eccentric warmth, so that I can’t help but want to be a part of. It’s large enough to be interesting, but small enough to be walkable, and I spent this morning going to a few of the more historic sites for pictures. Hope you enjoy seeing them as much as I enjoyed making them!

To me, it comes as no surprise that the author, Lidia Kott, could round up three gender-benders from New York, San Fran, and D.C., respectively. I expect that people chilling around Haight Asbury might delve a little deeper to create a unique image. But for your everyday 14-to-34-year-old millennial is this really how we perceive reality? As Exhibit A, “normcore” seems to promote a more androgynous look is widely accepted. Also, we can’t forget the man bun — a possible move in the feminine direction? On the other hand, growing up in a Georgia suburb, while girls openly embraced camo, men weren’t really rushing towards nail polish, kilts, or, well, anything associated with a more traditionally feminine identity. Maybe my peers were the missing third in the Intelligence Group’s survey (or they thought people weren’t defined by their gender so much, they just didn’t know where those people were).

As sorority shirts look increasingly like the-shirt-you-wore-home-this-morning (complete with frocket) and frat daddies grow ever more colorful the later you venture into football season, maybe I am being generally unfair. But I fail to see how modern millennial gender norms (or abolishment thereof) seriously rival those of the flappers, the beatniks, or the hippie movement. Men’s hair was certainly more “feminine” in the 1960s and 1970s. And androgyny hardly beats bobbed hair and a straight frock. Ms. Kott does concede, “Mostly, you’ll see millennial women dressed femininely, and millennial men dressed masculinely. But many even conventionally dressed millennials are considering the ways in which gender might be flexible.”

What do you think? Do we dress and act differently? And if we don’t dress differently, do we feel fundamentally different about gender?

What feels like once every millenium, Anthropologie offers temporary price cuts their sale items, making it feel- for one fleeting moment- as if the prices were almost within the regularly scheduled budget.

The only kicker? As subdued as their general color scheme, the date of this occurrence happens at the most trivial and unmonumental of times. The weekend of April 25th? Okay. Cool, yea. I was ready all along… *panicking.* I get whiplash when it is, and subsequently blindsided trying to figure out simultaneously what I want, if there’s room in the budget to throw down, and what exactly is happening.

This year is no exception, so I apologize for the last minute news, but instead of having to go through the entire gambit of the shop/splurge-guilt-binge-and-purge, I’ve expedited the process by bringing you a few of my favorite (and on the lower side of the price spectrum) items from the latest sale:

But as always, the best way to go is to check out the store itself. I make my killing on the rando items that have missing buttons or slightly messed up zippers. There will be one left, it’s on triple markdown and in otherwise perfect condition. Best of luck to you on this less than normally noteable weekend!

My Mimi used to tell me, “When God was giving out _________, you must have been at the water fountain.” She would fill in that blank with anything from common sense to patience (depending on the variation of my mood of the moment). Well in the past week I’ve felt this way about the “kimono” craze. It’s like I walked to the water fountain, and when I got back everyone was decked out in gag-me-“Eastern,” amorphous pieces of drapey fabric, aka glorified “ethnic” or “tribal” rugs.

Kimono?

Welp, now that it’s here I might as well all get myself an over-sized cardigan too. At least it would cover my failed attempts at tanning over Spring Break, and it comes not a moment too soon for festival season!

But now that we’re on the topic, let me just go ahead and voice the elephant in the room: should this shameless cultural appropriation (“kimono”) be blamed on the artistic groupthink that is Coachella?

I know what you’re thinking, Rebecca, “kimono” translates literally into “thing to wear,” making it a perfectly apt word for these window treatments people are donning. And you have a point. Nevertheless, in a needless effort to curb Americans’ perceived ignorance (don’t remind me of freedom fries), I propose the term “festival fringe” to describe these flowy cardigans. Let’s be honest, its just as terrible as the word “kimono” in describing these articles. How to use it in a sentence?

Hey girl, do you have your festival fringe for Coachella?
My festival fringe is cray. I feel like Woodstock revisited.
I did NOT feel like getting dressed this morning. Thank goodness for festival fringe.

But I know, I know, many of you are unphased and would still like a good ol’ fashioned kimono, regardless of my commentary. So I’ve gathered a few recommendations.

For those days you just feel like a geisha.

or this one!

Did you mean haori when you said kimono?

And for those of you who want some jammin’ festival fringe. I got your back.

I’ve. just. discovered. Heaven Polyvore. I feel like Nicola Tesla is lurking in a corner somewhere, hand outstretched, saying “Welcome to the Future, Rebecca.” Things are about to get a whole lot more sophisticated here y’all! On the downside, it may also be the most constructive procrastination I’ve encountered: fashion, scrapbooking, and unlimited supplies all in one! Just when I was getting over ebay…

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Above is my second ever collage (you might see the first one later… or I might banish it to the abyss of the internets). Now, generally I am SO cynical when it comes to buying designer sweatshirts. People argue the fabrics are so much better and they last so much longer, but I have yet to see one of the $8 Michaels craft sweatshirts eat it. In fact, sweatshirts seem to always be cropping up like ice on Indiana pavements…. I do not need to pay anything over $50 to get a sturdy sweatshirt (and that figure is allowing generously for the overpriced sports team paraphernalia).

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That is until I saw the adorable Marni Penguin Sweatshirt/ Blouse this compilation revolves around. I have long enjoyed the penguin sweater, but I thought it was a flippant kind of fancy almost like relish on a hotdog or a summer toe ring. I don’t own one of these gems, but suddenly, something very deep inside me seems to be crying out (in a still small voice) “Rebecca! What have you been working as a coat check girl for?” It’s like The Little Prince and East o’ the Sun, West o’ the Moon, and Mr. Popper’s Penguins’ artistic lovechild. I can feel le renard begging once again Apprivoisé moi!but through the ransacked voice of a surprised penguin(as long as it’s not the Happy Feet penguin it will be okay). Am I a sentimental fool? What sweatshirt (if any) would you splurge on?

We like the penguin sweater, and Jess does too.

It’s been a while since I’ve used this rating system, but I’m bringing it back:

The Conundrum of Being Broke and Stylistically Conscious

I’ve been a long-time silent partner here at The Clothesline, helping with the intricacies of WordPress and various other minor duties behind the scenes. Recently I was asked to lend a male perspective to the site, so I’m coming out of my cage to lend a hand.

Merona suit from Target. (We don’t talk about those days.)

As a recent college graduate who has yet to find steady employment, I’m faced with the challenging task of maintaining a wardrobe that belies my financial instability. Thrift stores and antique malls are options, but finding clothes that are 1) in good taste and 2) fit me can be challenging — especially for someone of my slender (read: bony) build.

In my younger and more vulnerable years, when my idea of a well-fitting suit was based upon early episodes of The X-Files, I did my suit shopping at Target. I landed myself some decently constructed suits, but of course none of them actually fit me. (And I never bothered even trying to get them tailored.) When I finally wised up and realized (among other things) that I was a 36 instead of a 38, I was faced with a problem: Target doesn’t sell 36s.

Like Target, H&M offers suit separates for about $90 per two-piece suit, depending on the cut and material. The main draw for me is that some of them actually fit me. I was first introduced to the company about two years ago, when I wandered into one of their stores and came out with a decently fitting black suit. I wear the jacket on a semi-daily basis, and it still holds up for dressy occasions when I trot out the trousers. The pants started to unravel around the fly a year ago, but some elementary sewing fixed that.

Black, however, is a color best suited to funerals and federal agents. For professional occasions, navy and grey seem to be the most enduring colors, and since conservative style choices tend to land jobs, I’m sticking with H&M for additional suits until I can afford to move on to pricier (and more adventurous) options.

J. Ferrar windowpane jacket.

My biggest gripe with H&M’s suits is the low arm-hole placement. It’s not awful, but it’s not great either. A slightly higher-tier solution is JCPenney‘s J. Ferrar line of suits and jackets. While I don’t yet own any of their suits, I have a slim-fit jacket from last year’s collection. It’s my favorite jacket, and it has the best off-the-rack fit of any I’ve owned. Button placement is a bit high, but the construction and fit more than make up for it at that price. (It was about $100 if I remember correctly.) I’d love to give some of their two- and three-piece suits a try, but for now, for financial reasons, I’ll be sticking to H&M. (Although wearing a suit with boots that cost nearly 50% more than the suit is a weird feeling.)

A few days ago I was at the thrift store and came across this little beauty:

The lace was impeccable! The cloth was fully lined, of good quality, and no buttons were chipped or missing (it buttons up the back). Though at first glance, it seemed like a styleless rag, I decided to invest two whole dollars to embark on an experiment of mammoth proportions.

Eighties-tastic Thrift Store Find: $2.00

Brand: Watters and Watters

Problems: Shoulder Pads and Crazy Scalloped Sleeves.

Step 1: Seam Rip.

With a mere seam-ripper and 30 minutes, I was able to remove the sleeves and the shoulder pads. Because the sleeves had several layers of stitching, it took a while, but also left me with a natural fold to hem the sleeves when I was done.

Step 2: Eliminate Damage

I don’t have a sewing machine, so I ended up hand stitching the sides down. I just popped in a movie (Grace Kelly, Bing Crosby, and Frank Sinatra with Louis Armstrong in High Society- I’d recommend it if you like old movies and jazz) and just stitched away. It maybe took 40 minutes? Ta-Dah!

Step 3: Call Me Molly Ringwold. I’m goin’ to prom y’all, or at least, back to law school.